Craig
by holyshitsouthpark
Summary: Craig has learned that if you ignore the problem, it will eventually go away, so maybe if he ignores Tweek, he'll go away too. A repost of the first chapter of my story "His Fault", this one completed, an open-ended short story. #3


((This is a repost of the first chapter of my story "His Fault" minimum edits were made. Reposting because this part of the story is in correlation of the same timeline as all my other current stories.))

All of my stories that I'm going to post are all within the same timeline unless noted otherwise with ((independent)).

This is story number three.

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><p>What ever happened to when music could tune everything out? To be able to just press earbuds into my ears, turn up the bass, and crank the volume. I remember when I could close my eyes and listen to the instruments rattle my brain as I shut out the real world for a while. The beat would become my pulse, the drums would beat out any of the bad memories from the day. What ever happened to that?<p>

"Craig."

Oh god not again.

"Craig!" this time it came with a poke.

Dear jesus can't they see that I'm-

"CRAIG!" came another screech as Clyde ripped a pulsating earbud out of my ear.

I turned to face Clyde where he was sitting next to me in the booth.

"What the fucking hell do you want this time?" I growled through my clenched jaw. He knows that I'm in the zone when I listen to my music. But of course, with Clyde being his gracious self, he decided that it's okay for him to interrupt such a valued thing to me.

Clyde shrunk back into his seat after hearing the edge in my voice and let out a little "never mind," before going back to chew on a taco.

Why did I even agree to go out with these two today?

I looked at the seat across from me only to meet the eyes of a disappointed Token. He's always trying to get me to be nicer to people. "Karma's a bitch, Craig," he'd always tell me. But as he'd looking at me, shaking his head, all I did was flip him off and move to put my earbud back in its respectful place.

But before I could finish the deed Token speaks up, "Tweek's coming with us to the party tomorrow."

My hand stopped midair; oh yeah, now I remember, as to was why I can't focus on my music anymore.

_He _came into my life.

That little motherfucker.

Who does he think he is, just coming into my life as easily as Cartman can scarf down 15 burritos in one sitting? (God that kid is such an ignorant fucking fatass.)

"That's what I was going to tell you…" Clyde pouted as he put his taco down, daring to glare my way. I rolled my eyes at his overreaction. He can be such a fucking drama queen sometimes.

"He told us today, that he's decided on going. He needed a ride, so I happily obliged." Token shared.

Great. First Clyde and Token made me agree to go to the stupid party with them, and now they decide to tell me that _he _was going to be there. And that I had to be in the same _car_ as him makes it all the worse.

_Those assholes,_ I angrily thought to myself as I, once again, question why I'm with these idiots.

It's like today the whole human populous decided 'let's see how we can piss off Craig today'.

No. Fucking _no._

This is what I don't understand; people actually go out of their way to fuck with me and this fact makes me want to gag them with a spoon. It's all their fault. _People._

I hate people. Sure, I guess it's not legitimately the whole human race, or even the individuals that compose it (except for Cartman and his fucking money-stealing, getting-held-hostage-in-Peru posse). No, it's the fact that people actually want to be social. Actually going out, completely voluntary, just to talk to or hang with other people.

I can't grasp why this is so fucking desirable by so many people. All that I want is to be able to stay secluded up in my room, alone with my eardrum-bursting music. That's my idea of a perfect day. Not having to leave the confinements of my room, and not having to be around people.

But here I am now, in a crowded Taco Bell with my 'friends', being forced to be social.

"Why would you tell him we'd give him a ride," I growled deeply.

"Craig," Token begins as he rubbed his temples, "he doesn't have a car, and the party is twenty-five minutes outside of South Park."

"So fucking what, that means that you have to take pity on him?"

"I'm just helping out a friend, that's what friends do, Craig."

Token glared at me, silently telling me to fuck off and that his decision was final. We're going to have to give Tweek a ride to the party.

Tweek. I still can't get over the fact that one kid can distract me so much as he has. It's not my fault, dammit. He's the one who is driving me mental in the first place.

It's not that I hate him, it's actually quite the opposite. I find him to be utterly fascinating in every way imaginable. And that's the thing- he's so fascinating to me that I cannot focus for the life of me on what I'm doing. The me-time I had with my music is now gone since thoughts of Tweek flood my mind. My schoolwork by the end of the year started getting careless, all D's and F's because Tweek was in every one of my classes last year.

I just want him out of my head, and staying isolated in my room would have fixed that, if it weren't for these bastards. Now they're making me go near something that I don't want to touch with a ten foot pole.

I've learned that if you ignore the problem, it will eventually go away. So if I ignore Tweek, maybe he'll disappear from my life.

"What the fuck ever," I said, flipping off Token once more.

I heard a crunch come from where Clyde sat. After taking a massive bite out of his third taco he mumbled some unexplainable-choking-dolphin noises through his chewing that sounded like something along the lines of, "Thought you'd wanna know, you know? For someone who likes the kid…" I stopped him right there.

I punched him. Hard.

After dropping his taco and spilling its innards all over the table, Clyde made some more noises that this time might've resembled a dying giraffe, in which this time sounded like, "What the hell, dude?!"

I jammed the once forgotten earbud into my ear, which was still blaring music, pulled my blue chullo down almost covering my eyes, got up, and left.

"Oh calm down, you're being stubborn now," I heard Token complain as I exited the disgusting fast food restaurant.

Clyde is such a fucktard sometimes. He doesn't know when to shut his oversized mouth.

Turning my music up even more, if that were even possible, and with a scowl on my face, I stomped towards my house.

Upon entering said house, after cursing Clyde with all his stupidity under my breath while I fiddled with the house key, I took off to my room.

I know that they'll still make me go to that godforsaken party tomorrow, but for now I can at least try to have some quality Craig-time. Alone. In my room.

Slamming the door shut behind me, which remained inaudible to me because of my music, and kicking off my shoes I threw myself down on my bed.

"Fucking Clyde", I snarled aloud after arranging myself comfortably on the blue-clad sheets.

Even to the most sane, my tantrum would probably seem disprove Clyde's accusation for my likeness towards Tweek.

But for once, Clyde…

_Fucking _Clyde…

Was right.


End file.
